


spring is here (and so are you)

by One_Day



Category: Fire Emblem: Soen no Kiseki/Akatsuki no Megami | Fire Emblem Path of Radiance/Radiant Dawn
Genre: F/F, Fluff, Heather Neph Brom and Meg all go back to Ohma and live happily (for the most part), Love Confessions, Post-War, excessive mentions of spring and nature, sorry if the flow is a bit wonky
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-12
Updated: 2017-05-12
Packaged: 2018-10-30 20:39:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,899
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10884510
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/One_Day/pseuds/One_Day
Summary: Sometimes, little things change your world in big ways. Sometimes, wanting is enough. All you have to do is say so.





	spring is here (and so are you)

**Author's Note:**

> Here’s something simple and sorta fluffy. Maybe not as impactful or style-heavy as my other Heather/Neph but still nice nonetheless.
> 
> While writing, I listened to these songs, if you want to check them out:  
> Dustin Tebbutt - I Only Have Good Memories (Of You)  
> Oh Wonder - Ultralife  
> Sons Of The East - Into the Sun  
> Benjamin Francis Leftwich - Mayflies

It's spring at last.

In the spaces between fighting and sleeping, Nephenee used to wonder if it really would come again. After all that had happened, all the fighting and traveling, a new queen on the throne now and suddenly four years ago seems like another world, where her brothers run wild in the fields and she stands in the sleepy, not-quite-burning sun, helping her mother and father till the soil for the new year’s planting.

Through it all she never really stopped to notice the changing of the seasons. Patterns of the moon and stars and sun are something ingrained in a farmer’s heart since birth, and season dictates the time they wake and work and plant and wait, but it's harder to focus on the natural cycle of growth and recession when your comrades could perish on the battlefield at any time, and all the happenings just bleed together into one big watercolor mess, the army’s drive toward the finish line making their presence only fleeting. Not enough time to see any difference, in foliage reddening or crinkling, not enough time to notice nuances in the landscape, not enough time for anything at all.

But despite the rush of events and her lack of attention, spring still returns as it does, year after year. On the throne sits a still-inexperienced woman; however she is kind and understanding above all, and though there was doubt once, now there is none. Rocky relations with Daein have eased some, and for the time being, that change is enough. Of course, Nephenee does know there is work yet to be done, because rebuilding a nation is a difficult and strenuous task, but it reassures her to know that an era of peace is within reach. Even the boiling hatred against laguz in certain parts of Crimea is slowly cooling.

Like a winded soldier pulling himself to his feet after a victory, so too, does the kingdom flourish. The markets are loud and boisterous, with merchants hawking their various goods in brightly colored stands, and Nephenee is reminded that some things never really change.

It’s a comforting thought that struck her only recently, to know that life goes on, persistent like a mule in its efforts. She may have been altered, in her physique or her perspective, but even with the haunting memories forced to the recesses of her mind, threatening to resurface, she still returns to the same familiar home, the same hardworking people that she loves, just different in little, surprising ways.

When she does return, she isn’t alone. Sometimes Brom will stop by to pay a visit with his wife and little Meggie, because he knows what it’s like to wake up with nightmares at certain times when the darkness and silence is too similar to the past to deal with alone. 

What surprises Nephenee most is that Heather stays too. She’s quick-witted and sure-footed, can slip through her fingers like sand and disappear leaving nothing behind but the waft of perfume and thoughts of golden waves, but for whatever reason, she doesn’t. (Much to Nephenee's relief. She doesn't want to know how different things would be if Heather did leave.) Instead, the blonde rogue visits more often than one would expect, the pattern characteristically erratic in its spontaneity, a way Nephenee hasn't yet been able to predict. She takes relief in what that means.

Nephenee breathes deep, fills her lungs with the promising scent of cool grass and flowers and wet earth. The action sends her nerves into a flurry of activity, firing synapses to process everything at once: the colors, the sounds, the feelings in the air, before they hunker down and settle comfortably back beneath her skin.

It feels like the first spring in a long time.

Out here in the rural ambience, rivers sparkle over worn stones, full to bursting from the March rain, their banks teeming with silvery fish that dart about almost as if in imitation of the dragonflies above. Wildflowers spill over verdant fields and spring up in the shade of sweeping, tall trees, and ever-present in the air is the smell of the sun, of warmth and dried tomatoes and blooming as far as the eye can see.

Today, she catches Heather lounging about between the branches of a sturdy beech, hair falling over her eyes -- a sight that breaks her heart to pieces in a way that she doesn’t completely hate. There’s a book in her hands that she flips through casually, occasionally lingering on a page or two when a word or line draws her attention. Heather doesn’t rise when Nephenee approaches, just lays her book across her stomach and smiles softly.

The branch is low enough that Nephenee doesn’t need to look up or bend down. By some strange coincidence (she doesn’t question), their gazes meet at the perfect height. They exchange a few words, light and comfortable together, and the passing breeze is gentle on their skin. Nephenee idly notes the inflections in Heather’s voice, slow and carefree and gold, something like silk or honey flowing between them.

She finds herself almost lost in the sound.

Then there's some feeling like drowning, when the water fills up to the tops of your ears, and there's cold and dark in your mouth and in your lungs and Nephenee almost collapses from the sudden force. But it's a good kind of wave. The kind that makes you want to swim. The kind that tells you to leap up onto the shore and do more than just be taken in and pulled about like floating driftwood.

It must be the heady smell of the clustered blossoms in the air that drives her mad, but she lets herself be that way, lets herself become invigorated and brave and perhaps a little bit crazy in that drunken feeling. 

Maybe it's not the flowers at all. Maybe it has nothing do with the intoxicating allure of spring or how beautiful the other woman looks with dappled shadows falling across her golden hair, spotting her skin like the coat of an Appaloosa (though she can't deny that factor), and it's all just been sitting beneath her skin or pumping itself through her veins; whatever it is, it's still Nephenee who chooses to lean forward, easy and quick -- still her that attempts to press a kiss to Heather’s cheek.

It's just a quick brush of lips across skin, really, barely a whisper but it fills her mind with cloudless skies and pastel smiles, leaves something timeless -- perhaps tinkling laughter -- ringing in her ears. There's no mark left, just the knowledge of it in her head and on her mouth like a secret.

When she pulls back, Heather’s blue eyes are on her and she wants to kiss her again but it's still a tiny feeling, hasn't swelled and over-leapt itself quite yet, so she finds it effortless to take the thought and shelve it away gingerly like a precious treasure.

“You finally falling for me, Neph? I almost thought you never would,” Heather teases, a smirk not only on her lips but in her voice, and Nephenee is speechless for a moment as the other woman affectionately bumps shoulders.

There's a bit of nervous energy in her now, but she supposes it's all a part of the season, with new sprouts and new chances breaking through the surface like young pioneers after lying dormant all winter. It's sort of reminiscent of their ragtag group, but also of herself, growing into her skin and filling out and just letting herself do without thinking too hard, thoughts of whether she can replaced with wills and have dones.

Nephenee can, does, and has fought in wars. She's a sister to five and hails from the country and carries spears with an absolute proficiency, so if she wanted to, she could do it. She could speak and dress how she wants -- can even kiss the girl she desires because Heather isn't exactly discreet, has made direct but respectful advances, and Nephenee berates herself for not acting sooner, because Goddess knows how long she has stayed herself from wanting.

So she makes it real, puts it in the air for them both to see. She holds it up with pride and not shame, plainly like the birds do and the trees do and the daffodils do, like singing and living and smiling.

“I’ve said so before, haven’t I? You're a real swell gal, Heather. If you’d just up and gone after the war--” she pauses here, tangles and untangles her fingers together in an unconscious gesture (it seems there's still habits she can't shake), then continues, “Well, I’d miss you much. Probably wouldn't’ve been able to stop thinkin’ about you.”

Heather raises her eyebrows at that, and perhaps Nephenee is just imagining it but her cheeks seem to hold more color than before. It’s times like these when the flirtations die off that they realize there’s a more meaningful attraction there. It’s infuriating though, the way they both dance around the subject when it comes down to it, even Heather who at any other time would be bold and resolute. Nephenee almost wants to take the woman’s face in her hands, meld their lips together and show that she isn’t some fragile vase that will break apart in her hands, shout that this isn’t playing along to a silly game, that she has loved her and does love her like she never even knew she could, because oh gods, thinking of Heather is as easy as breathing -- easier even -- and it's a terrifying thought to leave unattended. 

She wants to nourish and water this tiny unknown thing between them that she knows will be beautiful but isn’t quite there yet. When it comes to this, Nephenee is tired of could bes, of wants and wants and wants and wants that she tamps down ferociously time after time.

And so, though she’s embarrassed, it’s spring and she’s so filled to the brim with wanting that she blurts out, “Heather, I love you. In love, I mean.”

Uttering those words feel like liberation.

A beat passes between them and then Heather is practically falling out of the tree to fling her arms around the country girl, book discarded, and Nephenee is laughing, out of surprise and love and a lot of things that she has never said aloud or let herself feel before. The laughter is contagious and when Heather breathes out that she does too, Nephenee doesn’t even need to ask what she means because she’s the same and all it took was a little bit of healing and a little bit of madness and Heather being Heather to tell her that she really does.

The rogue pays her back threefold, leaving tiny joyful pecks on her forehead and ears and cheeks and there’s light inside them, shining through in wide grins and bright eyes. It feels like they soar for hours but it's really just a matter of minutes, and when they land it's in the dew covered green blades that sprout up around them like a fortress to hide them from the world.

Above, the leaves whisper of happy endings and new beginnings, flower petals drifting from up high to tenderly caress the reaching grass, as if quilting a path for what will come --

And it is spring again.

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't played Radiant Dawn yet actually (almost done with PoR though) so if some of the plot stuff sounds weird it's because I have only the vaguest idea of what the game's story is about...


End file.
